Two Long Years
by Thennowandalways
Summary: Two years of looks and touches, of dreams and despair. Well she would give it one last shot... Remus and Hermione, doing what they do best!
1. Chapter 1

_All the usual disclaimers, she is a genius, I am not... anything recognisable is not of my making! If it was I'd be typing this on a much better computer..._

_This started off as a 2,000 word one shot, and it grew a little. I hope you enjoy! Please review xx_

**Two Long Years**

His voice always did send a tremor running deep inside her.

"What's that?"

He'd seen her pause as she sorted through the photos, years gone by. She'd been making some half arsed attempt to sort out the chaos of her apartment and he seemed to be happy to watch and listen. The pictures conjured up countless memories and she supposed she must have giggled out loud, as well as in her head.

"It's a photo of Harry, Ron and I, fifth year I think. I've never really looked at it before, Ron's almost drooling over me. How come I didn't notice?"

"It was a wonder to all of us, Hermione. You'd turned into a pretty girl by then, he was so obviously crazy about you."

Hermione smiled and ran a finger across the picture, Remus didn't miss the gesture, or her words...

"We were so young."

And he didn't miss her meaning. They had been so young, so innocent, but still so brave.

"The trials of youth, hey?" His words were light but his tone was heartfelt, they could both have written the book on the trials of youth.

He'd stepped closer to her and she could almost feel the heat from his body as it radiated against her. He was so hot, had he always been so hot or was it just the past two years?

"I can't work out if it was a happier time, or, well, not."

"What do you mean?"

_Pause, breathe._

"You know what I mean."

He'd stepped closer still now, and his hands rested lightly on her shoulders as he gazed at the picture before her. She'd trained herself so well not to lean into his touch, but it was getting harder. Merlin, she hadn't thought it could be any harder to resist him, but after all this time that small voice she'd silenced so often had been screaming to be heard.

_One touch, one little kiss, get it out the way and move on. Where's the harm? It's not much of a marriage after all._

She slapped the thought away, and as she did she became aware of his thumbs as they began to trace circles over her skin. They were soft at first and then harder, manipulating tensions she hadn't known were there until they faded away, bliss, it was just bliss.

"I do."

She knew, he knew, Harry knew, Ron knew, Sirius knew, everyone fucking knew. Didn't make it right though, did it? Didn't make it kind to his wife, didn't make it proper in the eyes of the world. It didn't matter who knew, or how they felt, nothing made it OK, and as far as she was concerned it didn't make it acceptable.

"Remus?"

"Hmmm... yes?" His voice was so low it made her shiver, and she didn't know how much closer he could come, there was so little space between them. Mind you, for the last two years she'd been wondering if the space between them was particularly skilled at carrying sparks and currents, even if he was across the room she could always feel that blasted heat.

"What are you doing?"

He stepped back immediately, and she heard his sigh and could picture the exact way his shoulders would slump. His hands stayed on her shoulders though, still now, and heavy as though the weight of the world rested on them.

"I don't know... Merlin, I don't know anything anymore."

She stayed silent, for someone so wordy she never could think of the right words at times like this.

He rested his forehead against the back of her head, sending those same shivers down her spine as she felt his breath tickle against her. Her head bowed slightly with the weight of his, it would be a simple motion, just one step away from him and the weight would be gone. Simple but not easy, nothing between them was every easy and try as she might her feet would just not move. Would it matter if they did? Would the weight ever really leave? She doubted it.

"I wish I were a better man."

But this couldn't go without words. She turned and clasped one of those magical hands between her own.

"You're a good man, Remus"

"Tell that to my wife, Hermione."

And she was back to silence; of course she was now unable to meet his eyes as well. She knew it wasn't right but she hated that woman, hated her with all her might.

"She knows you're a good man."

He stepped back from her and ran a hand through his soft, sandy hair.

"She just wishes I were a different one."

This wasn't a new sentiment, when the 'event' had first happened Hermione had finally conceded defeat. Tonks had her 'different' man now and all of a sudden his usually absent wife couldn't be parted from her husband. It was just what he'd wanted, he'd been in love with Tonks for so long and now he had his wife back, now he had the passion back, she could see it in his eyes. His marriage was back on track. His son, born of love, could grow up in a proper home, part of a proper family.

She'd known there was nothing left for her then, no room for the alternative she offered, and no hope for them. She'd done what any self respecting Witch would have done, she'd stepped back.

Not just back actually, she'd stepped away, far away. She'd thanked Merlin for work and the options it had given her as she'd felt the sand between her toes and tried to stop her heart breaking at the sight of the sunset.

And it hadn't been Sirius' words which had brought her back;

"_He's kidding himself, love. We both know it."_

No, it had been the fact that one morning she had clambered out of her bed to discover that the first thought on her mind was not amber eyes and warm hands, albeit hands she'd never felt where she wanted them most. No, her first thoughts had been on the colour of the sky and her plans for the day, and she knew it was safe to go back, she was healed.

Wrong.

So, so wrong. It was just seconds after seeing him again before she realised how mistaken she was. She doubted she would ever be healed, all through her life she would love him, and all though her life she would miss the feel of passionate moments they had never shared, of kisses which had never been stolen and breathless promises she had never heard outside of her dreams.

It wasn't the first time she'd heard those words from him, but it would be the last. She wasn't a fragile girl but everyone had their limits. She could live with knowing she would never have what she wanted, but she couldn't see it in front of her face every day, so close, but almost as if he was a thousand miles away.

"Do you ever get tired of the look on my face when you walk away, Remus?"

He blinked at her in surprise; it seemed like an odd question, it was so bold, so honest. They never talked like this, they skirted around the issue with unspoken words and thinly disguised touches. If he answered her, really answered her honestly, it would be like opening a door he could never close.

"I have to go, my wife... Dora will be waiting."

Well that was it, the knowledge crashed down on her like a wave and for one moment she wondered if she would ever breathe again. She tried, for the first time she'd tried. And who knows, if he'd answered her she might have carried on trying, she could have tried so hard he never walked away again.

But it had been such a delicate hope, and it had fractured so easily. It was time to stop the world, she wanted off.

"Don't come back."

That stopped him, his froze on his way to the door and she could feel the atmosphere in the room change with his shock.

"What?"

"When you leave, when you go back home again, like you always do. Safe in the knowledge that nothing happened, that you've done nothing wrong. Don't come back."

His face was calm, he had himself as well disciplined as she did. But his eyes told another story, panic.

"Hermione, I know it's hard but..."

"No, Remus. I've never really been honest with you before, I will be now. I guess it's the first time, and it will be the last. I love you, I love you more and more every time I see you."

She couldn't miss the light in his eyes before the sadness crept in.

"I don't know what to s..."

"You don't get to say anything." Her tone was sharp and it surprised them both, but she knew the words had to be said, and this was it, the time to say them.

"Everyone knows how I feel about you, Merlin, Tonks probably knows herself. For two years I've been listening to people tell me it was just a matter of time before you woke up. For two years I've watched your marriage crumble and seen how hard you worked to keep it standing tall. It made me love you even more, how desperate you were to save it, to give Teddy what you think he needs."

"When you were lying in that bed I didn't even notice you'd changed. I was just so relieved to see that you were OK. You didn't ask for the truth but you're going to get it anyway. I didn't notice, but Tonks sure as hell did, didn't she? You were always perfect to me, Remus. I won't deny the change in you, I won't deny the effect you have on me, but it's always been the same for me. Not for her though, was it? She's so beautiful, and you're..."

She let her gaze travel over him, her eyes showing raw hunger through her pain. She took in his soft, sandy hair, the stubble covering his strong, handsome jaw line. He felt her eyes as they stared into his, as they traced the outline of his shoulders and the shape of his thighs. He felt himself heat under her gaze until he couldn't stand it, taking a seat just to break the connection. He tried desperately to think of something to say to save her from her own confession, one he knew he couldn't return, but he came up blank.

"Well, you know what I mean. She loves that doesn't she? Even if she doesn't love you."

_Too cruel, Hermione? Too close to the bone? _

She caught the brief look of hurt in his eyes but pressed on regardless. Ultimately if she had her way when he walked out the door it would be for the last time, maybe a bit of cruelty would aid that process?

"She lusts after you and you revel in it, you thought it was enough. You're the only one who knows if that's true. You say she wishes you were another man? Well I would never wish that, I could never wish that, not when you're the only one I've wanted this way. You're the only one who's made me feel like you could split me in two and put me back together with one touch, the only one who makes my chest feel tight while every other part of me is burning."

She heard him swallow even as she felt herself blush horribly. She had never said anything like this to anyone, prim little Hermione Granger confessing lust like this? Never.

"You're the only person who makes me tremble with need for you in my dreams, and the only one who can make me feel like the most interesting person on earth. I know what I'm like, Remus. I know I'm bookish and earnest, I know the world sees me as prim and proper and stuck up, but you see something else. You see _me, _Remus. And I'll never forgive you for that."

Shock in his eyes again, she was the master of the surprise statement this evening, but what had to be said had to be said. Maybe he'd even thank her one day.

"You've brought me out of myself, you've made me aware of what's possible in this world, how two people can connect on so many different levels. I ache for you, Remus, in every way. I love you so damn much."

She turned away from him now, hoping against hope that she could finish this without tears.

"And it's killing me."

He'd walked and walked, maybe for hours now. Damn Dora and her incessant questions.

_Where were you? Who were you with? Why are you always out these days? Don't you love me anymore?_

Well he could answer her so easily; I was in London, with Hermione, because it's occurred to me that five minutes in her company is more exhilarating then the last two years have been in yours, and in truth? No, maybe I don't.

But it was never that easy, was it?

No, he had made a vow, one he would never regret. He had stood up in front of his friends and promised to be true to this Witch. And he had been, no matter how hard it had been, he had been.

Oh it hadn't been hard to begin with, they had shared a passion he hadn't felt in years. They hadn't been able to get enough of one another, had devoured each other wherever and however they could. They had laughed together and spent long, cosy winters nights hidden from the rest of the world. She had been the first woman to accept him for what he was, and a part of him would always cherish her for that.

_But there was a girl that accepted you before Dora even knew you existed, wasn't there?_

It was just a shame that his wife, who accepted him for _what_ he was, couldn't accept him for _who _he was.

It had begun just before the war had ended. They had spent three years fighting, determined to see it through, and they had supported each other through that, through the long, terrifying nights and endless losses. Maybe the battles and adrenaline and turmoil had hidden the facts. They had distorted the facts which had become glaringly apparent to anyone who knew them both.

They had absolutely nothing in common.

She wanted noise when he wanted quiet, she wanted company when he wanted to relive their intimate nights alone under the stars. Dora wanted parties and Quidditch matches and gigs by weird bands he'd never heard of.

That wasn't to say he didn't want those things. He knew he wasn't dull, he'd never have been able to keep up with Sirius and James if he didn't have Marauder in his heart. He loved to socialise and could drink and party with the best of them, but not all the time. She was 'on' all the time and he was tired. He'd wondered what had happened to the Witch he'd first met, the one who'd seemed so content in his company?

The doubts had started to roll in and before long he couldn't stop them. Had they done the right thing? Could they last? Was it time to walk away?

And then she'd fallen pregnant and after his initial shock and fear, and terrible behaviour, he'd felt such an overwhelming joy he wondered how he had ever thought of leaving her.

The first four years of Teddy's life had been a miracle to him, in truth his little boy still was, every day he marvelled at his good fortune. The dust of the war had settled, Sirius had been returned to them with Voldemort's fall, and it was perfect. Or it would have been perfect if it hadn't been for that one little fly in the ointment.

Teddy hadn't been enough to fix them, not that a child should ever been considered a way to mend a broken marriage. But for a while he had hoped that their beautiful son would cause them to bond again, to find a common ground.

But their differences became even more apparent. She was a boisterous mother who only seemed interested in sport and fun and the world outdoors. She seemed to almost purposefully overlook that side of her son which took after his father, the fact that Teddy would happily spend an afternoon holed up in the library with his father, heading his own investigations into the world of the written word. More than once she'd accused Remus of being boring and of trying to make his son boring too.

"_For Merlin's sake, Nyphadora. If I'm so damn boring why do you stay with me?"_

"_Because you're my husband."_

And there it was, because he was her husband. Not because she loved him, not because she couldn't imagine her world without him in it, just because he was her husband.

How those words had stung. He'd never ceased to love her, even through their differences, but she had made it harder and harder every day.

And then, one bright, hot day, he'd been trawling through case work in his Ministry study while the sun filtered through the window and she'd walked back into his life.

Shock had been his first reaction, swiftly followed by lust, sharp, burning lust.

Hermione Granger had never been a knock out beauty, pretty would have been the best way to describe her and even now and it would be fair to say that she lacked the confidence women like Tonks carried with them, the air that accentuated their looks. No, Hermione didn't seem to be at all aware of the changes she'd undergone in the two years since he'd seen her.

Two long years, how had that happened? After all, America wasn't that far away when you had magic at your disposal. She'd been studying the very latest in magical forensics before returning to join the Auror division back in London. He knew she'd been back now and again, he'd heard tales of her successes at University through their friends and had even received two beautifully written Christmas cards, but somehow their paths had never crossed. He wondered if she would have had quite such an effect on him if he'd had seen the changes come over her gradually?

But instead he felt the full force. Her hair was still simply indescribable, he supposed not even magic would ever change that. Although she'd been a pretty girl, her hair had always been almost comical. Now though she seemed to carry it better, it seemed wild rather than then messy, more striking than amusing, heaven help him, it was sexy. And so was the rest of her, even if she clearly had no idea. She'd wondered into his study in Muggle jeans and top and he'd worked hard to keep his eyes from sweeping over her from top to toe.

Her skin was almost luminous, and his errant mind strayed to images of soft, pale thighs before he could stop it. Her eyes shone at him from across the room and her smile was infectious, even through his shock he couldn't help but return it.

It wasn't that she was stunning, although there was no doubt that two years of the intense physical training which formed part of any Auror focused Degree had done wonders for her. She was toned and fighting fit but she hadn't lost the softness in the places that mattered. There were still curves there, obvious, enticing curves.

So pretty, yes. Attractive, definitely. But it wasn't that which blew him away.

It was her freshness. She wasn't wearing makeup, in fact it looked as though the thought wouldn't occur to her. He could smell her from across the room and she smelt like a summer's day, grass and flowers and something just a little bit exotic. But there was nothing forced, nothing fake. Her lips looked pink and inviting without the aid of any gloss and the skin at her neck didn't need jewellery to adorn it.

It was her innocence which first drew him in.

And it was her heart and soul which kept him there.

It had happened quickly after that; short conversations leading to longer ones. Group lunches gave way to quiet drinks between the two of them. Smiles became lingering glances, which in turn became full on gazes, gazes which held oh so many questions.

Questions he wouldn't be able to answer, even when they were given a voice by his oldest friend.

"_What's going on, Remus?"_

"_With what?"_

"_Don't play dumb, it doesn't suit you. With Hermione?"_

_He'd thought about lying, to his friend as well as himself, but it was almost a relief to get things out in the open._

"_I don't know Sirius, she's... she's... Merlin, look at her."_

"_You're married."_

"_I know."_

"_Where does that leave Tonks?"_

"_Where she's always been, she's my wife, I love her."_

"_Do you? Do you really?"_

"_I do."_

"_Well, where does that leave you?"_

_Where indeed..?_

And there the situation had stalled, for a while anyway. He'd fought against every instinct in his body and soul and had stayed away... for a grand total of two weeks.

Of course when he sought her out again it had been worse than ever. She retained that same fresh, gloriously innocent beauty he'd seen when she'd returned from America and he'd almost wept. It was hopeless, he'd just have to face it, he was in love with two women.

At least he could be certain of one thing, it was one sided. She may be curious about him, may even harbour some kind of crush, after all the looks weren't one sided. But he couldn't persuade himself that she could _really _want him, that she could honestly look at him the way he did her.

But then the looks became touches. Innocent ones, of course, he was a man of honour after all.

_And maybe if you kept telling yourself that it will be true._

No, there was nothing sordid, nothing untoward. It was just simple things, a brush of her hand, his hand on her elbow as he steered her through a crowded bar, one, and only one, 'friendly' kiss goodnight. He hadn't let that happen again, he cheek had been soft under his lips and her smell captivating, almost as captivating as her big brown eyes as she'd gazed up at him.

"_Take care, Remus."_

Take care with what young Witch? My heart, my wife's heart, and maybe even your heart? As hard as it had been he'd slowly allowed himself to wonder if, perhaps, it wasn't as one sided as he had once thought.

Eighteen months, eighteen long months and her steady, calculating gaze hadn't wavered. It still held the same depths of... _something _he'd seen when they'd first met again. And the way she shivered when he touched her, like he'd struck a chord somewhere deep down, one she hadn't known was there. Her eyes had looked so surprised at first, as if he'd slapped her, and he'd realised with a start that she'd never felt that jolt before.

It had caused his mind to wonder, had she just never felt that lust? Or had she never felt _any _of it? Had a man ever touched her? Caressed her? Pushed her up against a wall and tasted everything she had to offer, had no one ever...

_Ye gods man, keep yourself under control._

So he had spent his days in a daze; he was a good father, or he hoped he was, he was so in love with his son he couldn't see how he could strive to be anything less. He was a good husband too, in name anyway. Dora never wanted for anything, he worked hard these days, at least he was allowed to now, the Auror division had welcomed him with open arms after his actions in the war. He looked after his family financially, and his son emotionally. His wife never had to hear rumours about him the way some wives did, she hadn't had to worry that their marriage would go the way of some formed during the war; in a storm of infidelity and acrimonious divorce. He tried to be there for her, tried to understand her, but somehow he always felt himself lacking.

He'd thought that maybe he hadn't tried hard enough, perhaps subconsciously he was only half there with her. Of course he knew where the other half was, it was locked in his study with Hermione, discussing the intricacies of a case in such detail it would drive less well suited minds to distraction. Or perhaps it was sharing a walk through a city park while she revelled in the grass under her bare feet while extolling the virtues of Muggle literature with a determination that never failed to make him smile.

It had been with that thought in his mind, and a vow to try harder, to make his marriage work, that he had left for work that day.

That strange, bizarre day in which everything had changed.

"_Oh god, oh god. Is he OK?"_

_Hermione had been running before she'd even finished the words. Hospital, accident, unconscious, Remus. That had been enough to send her world into free fall, and heaven knows what the results would have been if Ron hadn't stopped her with a firm hand on her shoulder._

"_Hermione, listen to me. Tonks is there. I... well I don't know what... if anything... that's not to say I think anything is... Merlin, I mean Tonks is there, of course, she's his wife." _

_He'd seen her questioning look begin to transform into an angry glare and he'd hastily come to the point._

"_I just know you'd regret it if there was a scene."_

_She'd softened towards him then, there was no judgement in his eyes or his words. He didn't know if anything was going on, he probably didn't want to know. But he did know her, and he was right. She would never forgive herself if she allowed her depth of feeling for Remus to become public, outside their small, intensely private circle of friends anyway._

_And so it was that she'd approached his hospital room with caution, overwhelmingly aware that the space inside this little room contained both the man she loved and wanted more than she could ever have imagined and the reason she would never be able to act on those emotions._

_Her conversation with Tonks had been short and to the point, and as she gazed at him she'd hardly noticed anything different although the doctors had been clear._

"_An accident apparently..."_

"_Strange combination of potions that Wizard kept..."_

"_... never be able to replicate the exact circumstances..."_

"_Yes, younger..."_

"_Strangest thing, no other effects..."_

"_Looks around thirty, I'd say..."_

_But to her he'd just looked peaceful, like he didn't have a care in the world as he slept. And once she'd assured herself that he was OK she had offered to bring Tonks a coffee when she came back from the canteen._

_Her response had said the words they would never acknowledge out loud._

"_He's fine, Hermione. There's no need for you to stay."_

_Mine._

It was funny how she'd known what Tonks' reaction would be, she didn't really know the Witch all that well. But something told her that things would change now. Tonks had a young man, not a tired Wizard, he was in the prime of his life and she would celebrate that. How strange, Hermione thought, to be so concerned with what was only skin deep. Tonks would be all too aware of what a catch she had these days, how lucky she was.

What a shame she hadn't realised that it wouldn't change what lay within his eyes, or his heart.

And, of course, Hermione had been right.

Tonks had launched a full force charm offensive when her 'new and improved' husband had woken up, and Hermione had heard enough snippets of conversation to know that her battle plan included events inside the bedroom as well as out.

And for five months something inside her had died. She'd lost hope if you like. There were a lot of things Hermione Granger was sure of; she could spot a lie a mile away, could read between the lines of a suspects statement as if the words were written a foot high, she could recite the exact phrasing of almost any line of Othello and could smell a badly brewed potion as soon as she entered the room.

She was also sure that never, in her most explicit of dreams, could she compare to the entertainment a Witch with Tonks experience and raw sex appeal would be able to offer.

So she'd given up, almost completely. When he knocked on her door all that time later there was only the smallest shred of hope left alive within her. When Sirius had confided in her that things were not quite as rosy as they may appear within the Lupin's marriage that shred of hope blossomed ever so slightly. And he'd offered her the only comfort he could;

"Just give it time, love. I'm sure of it, give it time."

And she'd allowed herself to dream again. Dreams of warm, strong hands and firm thighs, dreams of feelings she had never imagined and actions she had never considered. Dreams she had subconsciously suppressed until it seemed that maybe, just maybe, there may be hope.

She'd even come to terms with the morals of the issue, or tried to anyway. Merlin knows there was enough gossip and speculation within their group about the way Tonks had been eyeing up Charlie Weasley, about the way their giggles could be heard as clearly down the table at dinner as the sweet stream of conversation Hermione and Remus always fell into. The marriage was failing, everyone knew it.

Everyone but Remus, anyway.

Or maybe he did, maybe he just didn't want to face it. Or maybe he did know but he just didn't want her the way she wanted him. Her stomach clenched at the thought, but she had to face facts.

She had given him chance to talk about things this evening and he'd turned away from it. She'd looked at him, with his broad shoulders and smooth skin, free of the lines born of the cares and worries of the past few years. She'd seen firm thighs and strong arms, hands which she'd always loved, now even more enticing, if that was possible. She'd seen eyes which had never changed in the way that they looked at her, in the wisdom they held, and the trace of something deeper which she caught on occasion, eyes which had never been able to hide who he really was, no matter what face they shone from.

She'd looked at him and spoken with all the honesty she could muster, she hadn't talked about the tears, hadn't even shown them, she hadn't talked about the advances she'd spurned from other men because they would never quite measure up, hadn't told him about the nights where she felt so lonely she wondered how she would manage to face another day. But she'd told him what was important, what he needed to know.

And then she'd asked him to leave. And he'd gone, in silence.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

It was less than 24 hours later when she heard the familiar sound of someone Apparating into her flat. She wasn't in the best of moods; her case, the one she had been working on with Remus, before he'd gone AWOL for the day anyway, had tumbled over into the Muggle world and she'd had to wear these ridiculous clothes as a consequence.

Undercover work required a disguise, and this one couldn't have been more convincing. The makeup on her face felt stiff and itchy and her fashionable high heeled boots were completely foreign to her. How these women coped, poured into these skin tight jeans and small, flimsy tops, she would never know. But apparently this was how a 'girl about town' would dress, and for today only she had been a rich, confident woman with the world at her feet. Not a crushed and hopeless basket case with a severe case of unrequited love and the humiliation of rejection resting on her shoulders. Perhaps it was a good thing, if it had kept the gloom away.

Maybe there would be no harm in continuing this charade a little longer? After all, the case wasn't closed, there were loose ends to tie up and a bit more investigative research wouldn't go amiss.

So it was that she had grabbed her hand bag, Mulberry of course, and made for the front door when she heard the noise.

She'd turned in surprise, surprise which had quickly become panic when she'd seen Remus in the middle of her living room. So here he was, to finish the job. She'd hoped he would just stay away and wondered how the hell she would manage to hear those words of rejection out loud, especially when she felt so unlike herself.

But conversations rarely go the way you expect.

"Hermione? What on earth have you done to yourself?"

He was gazing at her in wonder, but it wasn't the same gaze she'd become accustomed to receiving today. All day she had felt men's eyes on her body and now the one man whose attraction she would actually relish was looking at her with something akin to horror.

"What do you mean what have I don't to myself? I'm 23, Remus. I can dress like I'm 23, can't I?" She couldn't be bothered to explain the real reasons, after all, why should he care, he didn't want her then, he didn't want her now, and she owed him no explanation.

"No! I mean yes but... I... Merlin, Hermione, you look... you look..."

She twirled in front of him, giving him the benefit of a look from every angle.

"What's the matter? Most men I've met today seem to like my outfit. Don't you?"

Her words had come out harsh a brittle and for a second she wondered where the voice had come from, it seemed to unlike her. But then she recognised it as her own.

_Perhaps this is how I deal with a broken heart then._

"No."

He was right in front of her now, eyes blazing with something which if she'd had to put a name to it looked like... was it anger?

"No I don't bloody like it."

With a flick of his wand the boots were gone, and before she'd had time to readjust, her arm was caught in his grasp and he was dragging her towards her bathroom.

"I don't like the boots."

As he ran a flannel under the tap.

"I don't like the trousers."

As he pinned her against the wall.

"And I don't like the makeup."

As he scrubbed at her face, wiping every last trace of the 'someone else' she'd managed to be off her skin.

Her face was stinging under his rough touch and his arm was bruising her as it held her against the wall. All the education and facts in the world couldn't help her now with the jumble of thoughts and emotions flying round her head. But the main one was fear...

"Remus..." she panted, as she struggled to move his arm.

"Remus, stop. Stop it, you're hurting me!"

The words did the trick her ineffectual shoves and pushes hadn't managed and he let her go, standing back as she leaned against the bathroom door.

He may have let her go but she couldn't get away from the feral look in his eyes, and something within her began to stir. He was setting her ablaze, even through her fear, and the combination almost made her feel sick. This wasn't what she'd hoped for, or what she'd imagined, she didn't know what this was. Five minutes ago she'd been ready to leave her flat and now she was trapped in a bathroom with a man she loved, a man who seemed to be undergoing some kind of breakdown in front of her.

"Remus, what's going on? What's happened?"

He took a step towards her, slightly less tense but still just as forceful. She shrank back, equal parts confusion and fear and the sight of her flinch brought him up short.

"You asked me if I liked it. I don't."

"Well, I hardly think..."

"Do you want to know what I like, Hermione?"

"Remus, I..."

"I like your hair when it's down."

He stepped towards her again and in her small bathroom that one pace brought him close enough to reach behind her and remove her hair clip.

She bit her lip as he ran his hands through her tumble of curls, trying not to fall into that familiar shiver when his finger caught her cheek.

"No, that's wrong, not like... I love your hair. I love it when it's around your face, or when it's framed by the sun and it shines like the heavens."

His hand rested on her shoulder now and his touch was not altogether steady. For the first time she began to feel the fear subside, it was clear she wasn't the only one slightly off balance this evening. What's more the rough edges he had been sporting had vanished and she knew that, whatever was going on, he wasn't going to hurt her.

"I'll tell you what else I love."

Her heartbeat jumped back up to double time. _Love._

"I love the way your skin is so smooth when I touch you. I've wasted so much time not touching you, Hermione."

_Oh, Merlin..._

His finger touched her face on purpose this time, running down the side of her cheek and along her jaw before his hand cupped her face so gently. All the while he watched her with a look which made her burn and ache.

"I love the way you blush, and I love that I know why you're blushing. I love that I know why you bite your lip when I'm standing behind you, or why you stutter sometimes when you know I'm looking at you."

He stepped closer again and her breath caught in her throat. There was that heat again, that damn heat pouring from him as if he was a flame sent to either warm her or burn her, she wasn't quite sure which.

"I love the fact that you're more beautiful to me than any other woman on earth."

_WHAT?_

She opened her mouth to protest, he was being absurd now, but of course he knew what she'd say and refused to give her chance to say it.

"No, listen to me. You walked in to my office two years ago and you brought the sunshine with you, and that feeling has never gone away. If anything it's grown stronger. You don't need these clothes..."

He ran his hand down her flimsy top in disdain.

"... and you don't need the heels or the makeup. You're perfect, you're you. I want you, I only want you."

_Keep talking... stop talking... kiss me... kiss me... kiss me..._

He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, running his hand across her stomach as he did so and delighting in the feel of her twitch beneath his touch.

_Please... _

"And I do want you, Hermione."

She thought about this a million times, how would she react? What would she say? What would she do? How would she handle the situation in such a way as to make sure that he never left her? But now he was here and his presence had never seemed so imposing, he'd never seemed so much like... well... a man. He was all man now, no soft glances or lingering looks, and no gentle brush of hands. He was touching her with purpose now and it felt like heaven with a lot of something not quite as wholesome mixed in.

And she didn't have the first idea what to say, so she blurted the first thing that came into her mind.

"It's for a case, Remus."

His brow furrowed as he looked at her from beneath long lashes.

"What?"

She even let herself give him a tiny smile then, he'd seemed so confident but now she'd thrown him off track slightly and it left her feeling more in control of herself. OK, scrap that, she'd never been less in control of herself, but at least now she didn't feel so lost.

"The clothes, the boots, the makeup, they're all for a case. I hate them."

He'd sighed in relief then, resting his head against hers.

"Oh, thank Merlin. I couldn't stand it. You looked like Dora."

Her name was out in the room before he could stop it and both their gazes had connected at once. Brown eyes met amber and the world stopped turning.

_What about your wife?_

_What about my wife?_

She opened her mouth to say the words aloud and he did the only thing he could think of to stop her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

His lips were forceful and unyielding on hers, but they were also warm and soft and like everything she had ever dreamed they would be. He tasted like loganberries, like a memory from her childhood, but the taste mixed with something much, much more adult. He tasted like desire.

She hadn't been prepared though, no matter how much thought she had given this moment she'd never come close to realising what an effect a simple kiss would have on her.

She could feel everything, the slow movement of his lips against hers and the hot wetness of his tongue as he ran it across her upper lip before tugging her lower one between his teeth. She could feel her heart beat under his fingers as they played across her shoulder and up her neck before settling to cup her face.

She could feel the heat of his hands, and his mouth, and his lean, hard torso as it pushed against her own. And she could feel how much he wanted her as he pressed himself into her thigh, pulling back to whisper with hot, intoxicating breath against her ear;

"I'm leaving her, Hermione."

She froze immediately and she knew he'd felt it as he drew back to look into her eyes. And what a look it was, full of passion and longing and... could it be love?

"I love you."

This time she felt her brain kick into motion, she had so many questions; How? Why? What would they tell everyone?

But of course he knew her, he always had.

"I didn't come here to talk about it, Hermione."

He spread his hands along her sides and pulled her roughly against him, delighting in the way that her eyes widened and her breath caught audibly in her throat. He greedily took in her pink cheeks and parted lips, leaning forward to trace his tongue along the contour of her jaw and groaning audibly at the feel of her shiver under his touch.

"I came here for this."

One hand began to rise and before she knew it he had skirted past her breast, letting one thumb casually graze against her nipple. She caught his eyes darken with the feel of her excitement under his touch. The look on his face, the feel of his hands, his body, his... everything, against her made her aware of her heart beating again, but this time she felt it in a totally different place.

"I came here for you."

He wound his hand in her hair and pulled her head back to bare her neck to his gaze and his lips.

"I came here to be with you."

She was trembling from head to toe now, if she felt like this now she wondered if he would have to tether her to the bed to stop her flying away, when and if they made it there anyway. Right now she had serious doubts that they would make it any further than the floor at their feet.

His hands were roaming and with a start she realised that so far she'd done absolutely no exploring of her own. How long had she been waiting for this? How long had she wondered how his body would feel under her hands? Before the 'event' he'd been a beautiful man, and she had no doubt she would have sparked at the feel of him against her, but she was only human and whatever she'd said about Tonks she would have been blind not to have noticed the improvement herself. He'd never been a slight man, but now he was even broader, looked even stronger and, if it was possible, taller somehow. Mind you that could just be his close proximity, they way he was looming over her.

She'd always assumed she would be a take charge kind of person in these situations, after all wasn't she in every other walk of her life? Maybe things would change, maybe when she was more experienced she would grab the chance to do things her way, but for now, for this heart stopping 'first time' moment she was more than happy to let him take the lead. Her head was spinning and her heart was stuttering and she knew she would do whatever he asked of her. He had been her teacher and now she was more than willing to be the student, and she had a feeling she was going to learn a lot from this man.

Still, submissive or not, she had some touching to do.

Their kiss deepened as she ran her hands up his long, toned arms, feeling him tense under her touch and marvelling at the hard planes of his chest as she stroked and smoothed her way over his shirt and brought one hand up to stroke the feathery soft hair at the top of his neck. Her back was pushing into the hard wooden door behind her and she knew she would bruise, she didn't care, why would she ever care about a little pain when this was what she earned as her reward? She was on fire and the throbbing between her legs was becoming more and more insistent, something had to give or she was going to explode.

She thrust her hips towards him, her most daring move to date, and she smiled against him as she heard him growl into her neck. His head moved up and he traced her ear with his tongue. At the same time he reached behind her and she gasped as she felt the door behind her give way.

How had he known this was the door to her bedroom? She would be hard pushed to tell anyone which hemisphere they were in, let alone outside which door in her flat.

Suddenly she felt the panic, she'd been expecting it, this had all been so natural she hadn't had time to think, but that split second when the door opened and she involuntarily stepped away from him gave her all the time she needed.

He knew where they were because he was in control, he was in control because he'd done this countless times before, with Tonks, with Witches she couldn't name and wouldn't want to. What the hell was he going to make of a virginal 23 year old? Oh Merlin, she was going to ruin everything with her fumbling inexperience and nervous fingers and he would realise she had nothing to offer him. Tonks was so experienced, she'd heard the jokes and the gossip and she knew she wouldn't be able to keep up. He was going to leave her, it was inevitable, and if that was the case did she really want to put herself in this position? Would it be better to miss what she'd lost but have experienced it anyway, or would she manage to survive if she never knew what she was missing?

She hadn't even noticed him stop, hadn't seen him gaze at her while she worried her bottom lip between her teeth, didn't realise that he wasn't fooled by the absent minded movements of her hands against his skin.

She didn't notice any of it. Not until he stepped away from her anyway, then his absence was like a bucket of cold water in her face and she looked at him in shock.

"What's wrong? Why did you stop?"

"What's going on Hermione? You were right there with me and then you disappeared. What's going on in that crazy mind of yours?"

She'd forgotten how easily he could read her, was she that much of an open book or did he just know exactly what he was looking for? She searched desperately for some way to convey what she was feeling but her tongue felt too large for her mouth and her throat was suddenly tight and dry. Merlin it had been forever since either of them had said a thing and she couldn't begin to think where to start.

He dramatically misinterpreted her silence, maybe she wasn't such an easy read after all.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I came on too strong, I should have... I just... you felt so good... I..." He stopped and stared at her, eyes hooded with lust but looking hurt and guilty at the same time.

_Say something, anything, speak for Merlin's sake... _

But nothing would come, once again she'd been struck dumb in his presence. This man, a man with whom she'd found words so easy to come by, had silenced her as effectively as a gag and she couldn't think of one way of breaking out of her silence.

Instead she just stared at him, eyes wide and chest heaving, she stared at him as he ran his hands through his hair and saw his shoulders move as he let out a giant sigh. She stared at him as he scuffed his toe against her pale carpet and she stared at him as he gave her one last hopeful look before he turned away.

That was it, the sight of his back, that was all she needed. Suddenly the panic she felt at the thought of him leaving was so, so much worse than the panic she'd experienced at the thought of what she was about to do.

"Wait!"

He turned again, eyes unwavering on hers.

"Wait, don't go, I'm sorry... I, well, I'm scared, just scared, that's all. Forget it, I'm fine, come here."

"No."

_Oh god, you've fucked it up, you've fucked it up._

"Please, Remus, I'm sorry. I want this, please don't leave me, please."

His gaze softened at the slight hitch in her voice and for the second time in 24 hours she felt herself trying to hold back the tears in his presence. But she didn't have the strength this time, everything had been so blurred, so fast moving, she didn't know where she was anymore and she felt one solitary tear slide down her face.

"Please don't leave me."

He was in front of her in a second, his hands grasping her arms, more bruises she supposed, but at least he was touching her again.

"Hermione, love, I'm not going to leave you."

"You're not?"

He smiled at her bewildered question and ran a finger down her face again, so soft and gentle she felt herself trembling once more.

"No, I won't leave you, if I get my way I'll never leave you."

He pulled her towards him and ran his hand down her hair.

"I didn't mean to rush you, we'll stop, I might just need to step outside for a moment, get some air you know..." He tailed off bashfully. He went to step away again but her tight grip around his waist stopped him in his tracks and he looked at her in surprise.

"We're not stopping?"

She smiled softly at him, heart singing again even though she knew she still had to explain her issues.

"No, Remus, we're not stopping, I just need to say... I don't know."

"You're scared?"

His voice was gentle but clear, it reminded her of his teaching voice, the one he would use to gently explain an issue to a student until they saw the light.

"Yes." She nodded.

"Are you scared of me?"

His question surprised her, she could never be scared of him, well OK, so she had been, for a few seconds in the bathroom earlier she'd been scared and confused, but even then she'd known he would never hurt her.

"No."

"Good, because you know I would never hurt you."

"I know."

"OK, so are you scared of what you're feeling?"

She blushed again and couldn't miss the small smirk on his face. He knew exactly what he'd been doing to her, up against that door, he'd made her burn for him and he'd felt it in every one of her shivers and moans.

"A bit." She admitted, Merlin she'd never been so economical with words.

"It's normal, pet, to feel that way. When you touch me my heart beats faster and my skin burns under your hands. I can feel my head spinning and all I know is how soft you feel under my hands and how good you smell and how I want to spend the rest of my life wrapped up in you, inside you, feeling you around me. It's amazing, and yes, I can see how it might be scary to feel yourself so out of control, but it's OK, love. I promise I'll make it good for you, I'll look after you."

And she melted at his words, he was so kind and so honest and she loved him for it. But that didn't change the fact that she didn't have a clue what she was doing and she was bound to disappoint him. He was used to better things.

"But I don't know what I'm doing." She blurted out without thinking.

"I'm scared I won't be any good, I'll disappoint you, you're used to..."

His lips were on hers before she had chance to notice the flash in his eye.

"That's what was bothering you? You were worried because you'd never done this before and you thought you'd disappoint me?"

She nodded shyly.

"Silly girl. Did you ever think about the fact that I might disappoint you?"

_What?_

"You could never disappoint me, Remus. The way I feel when you kiss me, when you touch me..."

"Exactly."

And she started to see, he loved her and he wanted to be with her and if the actions so far were anything to go by no one would be disappointed tonight.

"Hermione, I love the fact that you've never done this with anyone else."

She couldn't help but raise her eyebrows, it was such an unexpectedly clichéd response. He saw her look and had the good grace to look slightly sheepish as he leaned down to kiss her.

"I'm not going to lie to you, Hermione. It does give me a thrill to know that no one else has touched you like this."

He ran his hand down her neck and let it brush over her chest, leaning down to nip at her ear before he let his hand trail down her side and paused at her bottom, giving it a quick squeeze and smiling as she squealed and moved against him.

"I love the fact that no other man has heard you moan against him, or seen the way your eyes widened when you felt how much I wanted you."

She blushed again and smiled against his lips as he came in for another kiss, this one deeper then the last, promising more to come.

"But really, Hermione, honestly?" She met his eyes and her body hummed at the fire in them.

"For two long years, the thought of another man touching you has been driving me insane."


	4. Chapter 4

_Well this is it boys and girls. I hope you enjoyed it, if you did or didn't please let me know. xx_

**Chapter Four**

He pulled her against him and lifted her into his arms, his hands were firm under her thighs and her hips were gloriously thrust against his. He carried her to the bed as she ran her tongue across the skin of his neck, nibbling as she went and revelling in the groan he let out at her touch.

She relaxed onto the bed sheets beneath her, taking a moment to thank the stars that she'd changed the sheets that morning. She knew that after tonight the only thing she would smell on them would be him.

He was hovering over her, stealing sweet kisses from her lips and resting on one hand as he used the other to slowly undo the tiny buttons on her ridiculous top.

"Tell me to stop if you want to stop."

"Stop? Are you insane?"

It wasn't until she saw his smirk that she realised she'd spoken out loud. Where once she would have been embarrassed at her outburst now she just giggled into his shoulder.

"Sorry, I think my internal monologue's broken."

He kissed down the side of her neck as he peeled the silk from her shoulders, his hot breath on her skin and his wondering lips combined with the feel of his strong, beautiful hands on her skin. The combination left her feeling lightheaded.

"Good, turn it off. I want to hear you, Hermione."

She was almost bare to his touch not, with only her bra separating them. Before she had time to realise what he was doing the clasp at the front snapped open and his eyes blazed as he gazed down at her.

"I want to hear what I'm doing to you."

His thumb grazed her nipple as he kissed his way across her chest, determined but steady giving her time to stop him if she wanted. She appreciated the motives behind his actions but she was getting impatient, he was so close... so close.

"Remus..." she moaned his name as he finally ran his tongue across her breast, taking her nipple between his teeth and tugging ever so gently.

"I want to hear you moan my name, just like that, over and over again."

He was still moving so gently and his kindness was killing her. She could feel the tension in his body as he tried to keep himself in check and the thought of what he would be like if he ever broke through his restraint sent a jolt straight to the core of her.

Without thinking about it she began to rock her hips into hers, ever so gently at first and then more firmly as she felt the heat between them.

He stopped his gentle kisses and nips and took a moment to rest his head against her heaving chest, she heard him swallow and wasn't at all surprised at the word of warning.

"Hermione..."

"You're holding back."

It wasn't a question, it was statement. He was holding back and they both knew it, the only difference was that he thought this was what she wanted. She hadn't been wrong when she'd analysed her actions against the door, she wanted to be his, to be taken. She wanted this strong, gorgeous hot blooded man to make her his, and his completely. And she wanted all of him.

"Don't hold back, Remus." She murmured into his neck, delighting in the feel of his hips pressing into hers, stronger this time, harder, she was breaking through.

"Make me yours, Remus. Take me and make me all yours..."

Another thrust against her, this time coupled with the feel of his hand grasping her hip firmly, pulling her up to meet him.

"...please."

And that, thank Merlin, was all that he needed.

With a growl he flipped them over, pulling her hips down to meet his as she straddled him. His hands rose to grasp at her breasts, it was rough now, rough and feral and she loved it.

The arch of her back as she pushed into his hands gave him all the encouragement he needed and his let one hand fall to her arse, squeezing and kneading her in the most brazen of ways.

His lips were trailing fire, from her lips to her neck, her collar bone, across her shoulders. He pushed against her shoulders and she arched her back even more for him, feeling her long hair swing against her back and his teeth tug against her nipple once more.

He was far too overdressed she realised with a start, and her fingers flew to her the buttons of his shirt, fumbling in her haste and then giving up all pretence of patience and simply ripping it off him.

He chuckled at her impatience and raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Remus Lupin, don't you think for one second you're the only one who's been dreaming about this."

He pulled her towards him and as she leaned in eagerly for another hungry kiss he surprised her by cradling her face in his hands and moving forward slowly.

"I have dreamt about it, Hermione. For two years I've dreamt about this."

His lips were soft on hers, soft and hot and full of promises.

"But nothing in this earth or the next could have prepared me for how it feels to know you like this."

He lifted her slightly and pushed her down onto the bed again. His kisses were gentle and his hands were smoothing over her body. It was back to slow and torturous again, but this time there was no restraint, he wasn't holding back, he was loving her.

He whispered sweet words into her ear as she felt the button of her jeans pop. He laved the skin of her neck with his tongue and then blew against the same patch of skin as she felt the zip run lower, and lower.

He kissed her lips as she raised her hips to help him slide her trousers down, all the time one hand was tangled in her hair and his eyes were burning into hers.

She heard the sound of her jeans hitting the floor and was suddenly conscious that she was all but naked in front of the man she loved. What would he make of her?

But she needn't have worried, as she blushed self consciously he gave her a smirk which bordered on her leer and ran his eyes down her body, fixing his sight for a moment on the small scrap of lace at the apex of her thighs.

She didn't need to hear his growl to know that the gentle Remus was gone again, she'd been feeling the burn of impatience herself and as he ripped her pants from her she took a moment to delight in the way they complimented each other. They needed the same things at the same time, force or feather light, slow, leisurely kisses and long drawn out touches or the feel of skin rubbing skin, of heat growing and voices tangling their promises into the night.

Given the chance she may have frozen now, for the first time she was completely naked in front of a man and as Remus pushed her thighs apart she was spread open to him. His hand rested against her inner thigh, so close but yet so far and she felt herself begin to tense at the threat of the unknown.

But while she may have been the cleverest Witch of her generation he was no slouch himself and, as ever, he knew just what she needed.

At the first touch of his fingers against her hot flesh, she hissed against his lips.

"Oh God..."

Merlin, but he was talented. Well she assumed he was, she didn't really have anyone to compare him too. But she had read enough, and heard enough to know that a man did not usually have you writhing against his hand within 10 seconds of his first touch.

He was drawing small circles against her and every motion added another drop of oil to the flames which were burning inside her. The moon flooded her room with its eerie light and for a startling moment she caught a glimpse of the wolf behind his eyes.

But it didn't frighten her. Instead some hidden, unknown piece of her cried out to his second self and she spread her legs even further, pushed against him more desperately.

His hand was moving faster and she was being driven higher, hotter;

"More... more... please..."

And then it was gone and she could have screamed in frustration, she was considering the merits of screaming when his words interrupted her.

"I want to taste you." He whispered, his face now level with her belly button and his eyes glinting slightly amber in the silver light.

"Wh... what?" She wasn't surprised at the stutter, more that she could form coherent words at all.

"I want to taste you, I've thought about it, all this time, how you'd taste." He inched down towards her centre and blew against the heat he found there.

The jolt she felt far outweighed the slight tremor of nerves and his words came back to her;

"_I promise I'll make it good for you."_

Everyone knew Remus Lupin was a man of his word.

The feel of his lips against her thigh made her more wanton then she would ever have imagined herself to be. She threw her head back against the soft pillows and raised her hips towards his face, beseeching, first with actions, and then with words.

"Please Remus... please... do something... anything... I need... I need..."

"Shh, love." He whispered, his tone was tender but carried an underlying roughness which gave rise to the image of him buried deep inside her, making her his.

"I know what you need."

_Oh... sweet... Merlin._

The shudder started deep inside her and broke out in waves across her body as she grasped at whatever she could find. One hand clasped his head to her body and the other clawed at the sheets underneath her.

It built up, higher and higher, stronger and stronger until she was moaning unintelligible words into the night air.

And then it broke, with a gasp and a moan from her, and a deep resonating growl from him as he lapped at her until she couldn't take any more of him and used her heel to push against his shoulder.

He kissed his way up along her body, delighting in the tremors of aftershock which coursed through her, and the way her damp skin felt so warm against his lips.

His eyes were full of lust but his lips were full of love as he kissed her and she began to feel the energy coming back to her limbs. Merlin, she had never known it would feel like that, she'd never guessed she would welcome the feel of being so out of control.

And now she wanted more... more and more and more, forever. She wanted all of him, the good, and the bad, everything he had to offer her for as long as she could have it. And looking at him now she let herself believe, finally, that he might just feel the same way about him.

Still, they could talk about that later. Now there were more touches, more tastes, more feelings to have.

He had tried so hard not to push her, to rush her. It had never occurred to him that in the end it would be her pushing him.

But when she'd moved against him and begged him to let go he'd felt the reserve he'd always had to show around her finally break. There would be bruises against her skin where he'd grasped at her like a drowning man, he knew that in the morning she would compare the hand prints on her thighs and hips with the deep blue purple of the love bites he'd left across her chest and neck.

And she didn't seem to care, at all. Tonks had always made efforts to calm him down when he'd become 'too rough'. The sex had been good, he wouldn't lie, but she'd never fully welcomed the more aggressive side of him, whatever sex kitten persona she'd hidden behind. Hermione had not only welcomed that side of him, she'd pursued it. And she'd kept up with him, so far anyway. He smiled against her lips as she remembered the determination and hunger in her eyes as she'd ripped his shirt open and run her nails across his chest.

But he was unsure how to proceed. Would he finally scare her if he came on as strong as he ached to? Would she look at him the same way afterwards?

She was slim underneath him, slim but not thin. He body rose and fell just as he'd dreamed it would and he realised that even when he'd first seen a naked woman it hadn't been this exciting. She was extraordinary. For a moment he shivered as he realised just how lucky he was that she'd waited for him all this time. It could have turned out so differently. All it would have taken was one man to turn her head and she would have been lost forever.

Well there would be no losing her now, he'd split his family apart to have her and he'd move heaven and earth to keep her.

He felt her shift against his cock as it lay against her thigh and all thoughts if 'what if' and 'maybe' flew from his head.

He growled against her and felt himself harden still as she pushed her body closer against his.

Well this was it, now or never. She was hot and wet against him and he pushed himself against her, so desperate to feel her close around him.

And then he was inside her, and he saw the flinch in her eyes as he tore through the final frontier. He stilled inside her for a moment, giving her a chance to adjust to him and, more selfishly, revelling in the feel of finally being enveloped in the warm grasp of this beautiful Witch. Her chest was flushed in the half light and her parted lips were wet and welcoming as he pressed his own against them. For a moment he really believed there was nothing on earth which mattered apart from the two of them, in that small, neat bedroom, and the way her eyes held nothing but trust. Trust and desire...

It was a matter of seconds before he felt her shift against him and without warning she wrapped her legs around him, pushing him deeper inside her. Her eyes shone as he clasped her hands above her head and drew himself away from her before slowly thrusting back. She tried to move against him, to set the pace herself and he didn't miss the way she bit her lip in delight as he took control again.

"Patience is a virtue, Hermione."

He'd always wondered if her bossiness carried over into the bedroom, and he was delighted to see this new side of her; a side which enjoyed being dominated, this new part of her which was submissive without being meek, obedient but not unquestioning.

He was a dominant man, for all his quiet ways those who knew and loved him, or in some cases feared him, knew that he was a man who liked to be in control. In some cases dominance had been thrust upon him; when Albus had died he had been the logical choice to take control of the operation and he had carried the burden as best he could.

But when it came to sex he'd always liked to have the upper hand. Nothing could have prepared him for just how well they fit together. The thought of the hours and days and hopefully years they had ahead of them to experiment and learn about each other suddenly threatened to carry him away, and he spent a very serious moment focusing on the memory of his grandmothers stockings, in an effort to avoid the inevitable humiliation which would come with the lurid images flittering through his mind.

This woman would be the death of him, in the best possible way.

It could have been minutes, hours or days, but all he knew is that he was suddenly holding nothing back and she was with him, her body shook in time with his and her nails scraped deliciously across his back. She urged him on and on until with one moment of startling clarity he was aware of her soft eyes, lit with passion and... was it...? Could it be...?

"I love you, Remus."

One quiet whisper into his shoulder was all it took to map all the rest of the days of his life.

"You, me, together... always?"

"Yes."


End file.
